Sailor Moon: A New Star Remake
by Ninmast
Summary: A Sailor Moon/Star Peacefire crossover. The Pink Powerhouse crosses paths with the Sailor Scouts and finds herself in the middle of a conflict spanning two universes as the latest Senshi.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon, nor do I own any of the characters portrayed therein. I do, however, own The Chronicles of Star Peacefire, as well as all the characters contained in said saga, including, but not limited to, Star, Tina, Jonathon, Max and Darien Brooks, not to be confused with Darien/Tuxedo Mask, who is owned under Sailor Moon. In this story, I'll be using the English/Cartoon Network character names, as those are the only ones I'm truly familiar with.

Sailor Moon: A New Star

Chapter I

Ninmast

"Hey, Meatball Head, what are you doing out of your room?"

Serena froze at the angry voice, turning to look over at the burly nurse, all forearms and body hair, hard to believe the ugly woman really was a woman. "Uh, I'm just going to the bathroom, that's all! Yup! Just the bathroom! Nothing crazy happening here! Just hitting the can before I hit the sack!"

The nurse scowled, crossing those large arms over her chest. "Then hurry up, Blondie. You've got five minutes, and then I'm dragging you back to your room."

What a lousy situation, Serena thought to herself as she made her way down the hall. She was sent to this mental institution several months back when her mother caught her talking to Luna. Understandably, the woman freaked and immediately shipped her off to this nut house, where she had to put up with Miss He-Nurse.

And communal bathrooms, she mentally added as she looked ahead to the door at the end of the hall. "Aww … I'm supposed to be a princess saving the world with my handsome prince, not locked up in a mental institution like some sort of looney … I'll bet Rini and Raye are just laughing it all up … huh?" She stopped as a sudden heat hit her, like she walked in front of a furnace. She was in front of one of the patient rooms, but that kind of heat wasn't the kind the hospital would set the dials to. Shooting a glance to see the nurse bent over some papers, she pushed the cracked door open and stepped inside.

Inside, the heat was even worse. She could feel herself start to sweat, and she was surprised to find someone actually inside – a girl probably a couple years older than her. She was stretched out on the bed, apparently asleep as she thrashed as if from nightmares. She was of a reasonably respectable height, fair, flushed skin, and pink, very long hair, similar in length to Mina's. Her limbs were bound to the bed by metal rings welded to the frame, something in her three months Serena had never seen them do to anyone, but still the bed shook as the girl thrashed, her arms tensing and rippling with the muscular effort of whatever she was struggling against. Red wisps of smoke or fog seemed to radiate from her body, stretching out to fill the room. This was the heat, and it was coming from this girl's body.

Serena stared at the girl's face as she stepped toward her, watching it clench and hardly daring to guess if it was in terror, pain or struggle. She reached out for the girl's arm and stopped as she felt her chest begin to glow as the Millennium Crystal she was bound with began to respond to the energies around her. It glowed brightly for a moment before she clasped her hand over it, but something had changed. It took her a moment to place it. The room was cooling down. It was still hot, but it was definitely cooling down, and the girl had began to struggle less and less until she settled down completely, her limbs ceasing their struggles against their metal bindings as her face and breathing relaxed into some semblance of normal, peaceful sleep.

"Did I do that?" Serena began to step backwards toward the door when a heavy hand came down on her shoulder and the voice of the nurse screeched in her ears.

"Do what, Meatball Head? You wet your pants when you missed the bathroom?"

The blonde heroine seethed silently. Oh, how she'd like to share a few words with the good nurse, but that only ended in a night of tranquilizers and the padded room used for solitary. "No, I didn't wet my pants. I'm not three, you know …"

The woman practically picked her up by the shoulder, the grip on which seemed to tighten painfully, and the girl could swear her feet actually left the ground as the nurse pulled her out of the room, shutting the door behind her. "Get back to your room, Blondie. I know you don't want me to get the tranq case."

Serena scowled, but turned and went back to her room, shutting the door behind her before getting under the covers and putting her head down on the stiff, institution brand pillow. She sighed in frustration at the woman, but her thoughts went back to the pink girl. Who was she, and what was it that had happened in there?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Sailor Moon: A New Star

Chapter II

Group Therapy, the shining start to each day in the hospital. Serena was so glad they let them eat breakfast first, or even she wouldn't have the stomach for it. The nurses gathered everyone together, all the droolers, all the hyperactive schizos, all the people who had to be strapped to their chairs, and put them all in one big circle reminiscent of one of those Happy Sunshine Campers campfires where they all sit around and smile and talk about how great the world is while singing Kumbaya and It's a Small World. Then they made them sit around and smile and … well, it sufficed to say the only thing missing was the campfire. Once that was all done, they were made to talk about what was wrong with them and what progress they were making in their treatments.

And it inevitably came to Serena's turn, no matter where she tried to seat herself to be as far away from the beginning as possible, even sitting between a girl whose mouth resembled Niagra Falls and a boy who kept grinning at her in a way that made her wish there was a Negaverse demon somewhere to keep her company, instead, as she did today. She watched Dr. Horace, the head psychiatrist in charge of the hospital, make his way around the circle with dread, like the progress was the hands on a timer ticking down to a bomb strapped around her throat.

Finally, from his seat, the doctor turned his unwanted attention to the blonde girl. "And Serena!" he greeted her as if they were dear friends, in that sickeningly sweet way people in his profession had of addressing those within their care. "How are you feeling today? I heard from a little bird that you had a little trouble last night. Would you care to talk about it?"

Yeah, sure. She'd _love_ to talk about how she got "lost" on the way to the bathroom last night, which was obviously what he was referring to. She'd just jump at the opportunity to spill her innocent, delusional little heart out about the scary burning lady she saw chained to a bed. Yeah, she couldn't wait! The sarcasm in her own mind made her scowl, but the expression vanished suddenly as her gaze went right past Dr. Horace to the doorway to the group room behind him. "It's her ..." she breathed before she could stop herself, unable to put more force into the words than that.

In the doorway stood the "scary burning lady" from the night before. She looked disoriented, lost, like she didn't recognize where she was. She'd probably just followed the voices. Dr. Horace turned to follow Serena's gaze and his eyes widened, not expecting to see what was there. "Oh my ..." But then his eyes moved slightly.

Serena saw it in almost the same moment he had. Her wrists and ankles still bore the shackles from her bed, but the edges of the metal were twisted and torn, almost as if … "She ripped them off of the bed frame …?"

The psychiatrist looked as if he wanted to speak, to say something in denial of the deduction, but his mind seemed to patently refuse to even consider such a possibility.

Instead, it was the girl who broke the room's new-found silence. At first, only a rasp came from her throat, but she closed her mouth, swallowed and tried again. Her voice was still weak from lack of use, but she managed to get the words loud enough and with enough force to make herself heard and understood through three words.

"Where am I?"

At that, it was Dr. Horace who cleared his throat, and his mind put itself back on the rails. Of course she didn't tear the metal, herself. The answer was obvious. "Ah," he started, "Miss … ah, forgive me, I haven't had much cause to use your name frequently enough to recall it easily … something Native-American … something contrary …" He ran a few syllables over his tongue before producing the answer. "Ah! Peace-Fire, was it?"

The girl nodded. "It's just treated as one word, though."

Meanwhile, Serena was stewing over the new information. Native-American, huh? If she were a Westerner, that would explain her height and build. Lina was the only girl she personally knew who could compare. Come to think of it, in the light of day, she did have more of a tan than an oriental girl typically did. Still, the girl's accent was flawless. She spoke Japanese as if she had grown up in Tokyo.

"Well, you're in Shin Memorial Hospital," Dr. Horace was saying. "You've been with us while we monitored your sleep disorder for a year now."

"A year ..." the girl repeated, though it didn't sound like a question, just a filing of facts. Her gaze swept the room as if really taking it in for the first time. "Excuse me for saying, but this doesn't look like much of a hospital. It seems like more of a mental institution."

The doctor's smile didn't so much as flinch. "That's because it is. We're hospitals, too, after all." Then a slight change of subject. "Where's the nurse, dear?"

But she just looked blankly back at him. "What nurse?"

He chuckled slightly, what a silly question. "The one who cut your restraints. We had to weld them, you were thrashing so much. It looks like she had to take bolt cutters to them."

But she looked down at the wrist he motioned to as if seeing the things for the first time. "Oh," she noted passively. "I didn't even notice them." And then, in a scene Serena wished she could have recorded, not for what the girl did, but the way it made Dr. Horace pale and quiver ever so slightly, she reached down and plucked the steel cuffs from her wrists like they were nothing more than loops from paper chains and dropped them on the ground.


End file.
